I knew you were trouble
by LittleMissStark
Summary: to say Booker DeWitt has a drinking problem is an understatement. When a night of drinking and wanting to forget the blood on his hands leads to him using Robert Lutece, he has one angry sister to face. fluffy lemon angst with a happy ending.


Booker never cared who he shared his bed for the night with. Man, woman, doesn't matter. Sex is sex no matter who you're with.

Then Columbia happened. And Elizabeth happened and suddenly everything was going upside down around him and he didn't know which way was up. Elizabeth would try so hard to explain everything to him but it just ended up sounding like science gibberish to him. So he did what he did best.

He fought. He killed. And he drank and played protector to Elizabeth when she needed it.

And at each and every turn those twins were always there. At first Booker wasn't too sure what the Hell they were. Ghost? Some other form of the supernatural? Whatever they seemed to be they didn't have mush interest in killing him which, since Columbia happened, he is very happy for that. And they seem to want to help, vaguely so.

The more he saw those twins. The more he became curious. He felt the urge on more than one occasion of wanting to run his fingers through Roberts hair and seeing it come undone. Everything about him seemed so perfect and poise. From his speech to his clothes to his posture. They were complete and utter opposites.

But he's felt Robert's gaze linger on him longer than necessary on more than one occasion so he has a feeling that their feelings of curiosity are mutual. He might add in some flirting the next time they see each other and see his reaction.

Eventually they had a rare moment where they could just go to the bar and relax. He was alone. Elizabeth went off to watch the piano player or watch the sunset, he's not really sure. He just wants to drink.

He took a shot of whiskey and when the glass came down he saw Robert behind the bar so suddenly he almost jumped. Those twins always had a knack for appearing out of thin air. Book took in a breath. "Warn me next time you want to randomly appear." "I wasn't aware you scared so easily. I will keep that in mind." Book gave him a sharp look but the playful smile showed the twin was only joking.

He sighed and looked around. "Where's the other one?" "Rosalind is with Elizabeth and keeping her company." Booker nodded. "So science talk I wouldn't understand." "Likely." Robert poured him another shot and as he raised it to his mouth he thought about using the cheesiest one-liner he knew of. Luckily he had his second shot of whiskey in hand to help him out.

Once he took the shot he gave Robert a look over, studying him. He seemed fairly fit for a man of science. His shirt and jacket fit him nicely too. "Mr. DeWitt, what are you staring at?" Book gave a smirk. "Your clothes." He found the way Robert looked confused adorable. Blue eyes looking for an answer, touching his clothes for any imperfection. "Is there something wrong?" "I just think they'd look better on my floor."

Before Robert could react he took the whiskey bottle and poured a shot. Not having the courage to look him in his damning blue eyes.

But what he would have seen is the red head not quite getting it at first then a blush as deep as his hair and a fumble of words. "Uhh...well... ahh.." After his shot he got up, and felt the courage look him in the eye. To add to his flirt he smirked and gave a wink before walking away and berating himself.

 _Oh god. That was so stupid. They're probably never gonna help us again. Damnit_ _B_ _ooker, stop thinking with your dick._

He found Elizabeth sitting at an outside table with Rosalind talking about god knows what. "Elizabeth, lets go." He said as he passed her table. She seemed surprised but said a short goodbye to the red head and followed Booker.

He was both excited and dreading the next time the twins grace them with their sudden presence. If they wanted to keep helping after his half drunken flirt.

At one point in their mission Booker got seriously injured. Enough so that he barely knew what was happening. He felt movement and a pinch in his arm.

Eventually he was conscious enough to stay awake. He was in a bedroom. A nice one, with notebooks and papers filling every drawer and desk. He groaned and then he heard her before he saw Elizabeth come into view. "Oh thank God, we thought we lost you for good." "Almost. Where are we?" "The Lutece residents." He looked confused. She sighed. "Those two twins that keep showing up. Robert and Rosalind. Where at their place. If not for them you'd probably be dead." He groaned. "Pretty sure I was."

He heard the door open and a familiar voice. "You're awake. That's very good." He saw Robert come in with a tray of foods and a drink, placing it on the desk. "Elizabeth, why don't you go rest, Rosalind has tea ready downstairs." He continued. Elizabeth nodded, looking tired. "That sounds really nice. I'll be downstairs if you need me." Booker watched Elizabeth leave, feeling exhausted himself but too on edge to sleep.

He saw Robert walk over to him with a small smile and some kind of medical instrument that he couldn't name. "I see it didn't take much to get you into my bed." It took Booker a couple seconds to realize what he said mostly because it was so unexpected from the put-together red head. Booker gave a weak smirk. "Guess not." He chuckled, weakly but regretted it when his wounds tugged. He winced, taking in a breath. Robert could only watch with concern. "I'm afraid laughing will be banned while your wounds heal. You took a nasty shot to the abdomen."

 _Too bad. I like your laugh_. Robert thought as he tended to Booker, the feeling of the room a little more somber now than before. Booker sighed. "Yeah, because I have a problem laughing. I think I'll be fine kid." "No doubt about that." Robert finished with a small smile, going back to the desk.

Booker wasn't sure what they used to heal him (or what was done) but within less than two weeks he was able to leave to continue his mission. But not before telling the male Lutece that he enjoyed being in his bed, smirking at the small blush that matched his hair and left with Elizabeth.

The next time they met, it was at the bar again but he felt infinitely more stressed and ready to forget everything that ever happened. He ended up fighting with Elizabeth who stormed off to God knows where. He shoved his way into the bar, taking his seat. Quickly a shot of whiskey was in front of him. He saw it was Robert and he really didn't feel like taking his anger out on him by lashing out but he didn't really feel like taking either.

"Leave the bottle." He felt the sudden mood shift in the other twin but he did as requested and left the full whiskey bottle.

He did shot after shot, wanting to forget Elizabeth ever happened to him, wanting to forget the blood on his hands. He wasn't sure how long he had been at the bar but the bottle was nearly empty and he was on his last shot and he felt good and drunk and he didn't see anyone else at the bar.

"Mr. DeWitt? are you alright?" He heard the Lutece twin before he saw him. He looked up, his head pleasantly spinning as he saw concern in those blue eyes. He hadn't answered so Robert continued. "I can offer our bed for the night. I think you need it." Book shot up, holding the red heads sleeve to steady himself. "I think I need you." Before the other could react Booker crashed his lips to the other, wrapping his arms around his shoulders, running his fingers through soft red hair.

The other gasped into the kiss but melted into it. It felt like heaven and he wound himself around Booker, pulling away enough to go through the doors behind the bar and to up to his bedroom. They barely stopped touching, hands fumbling with clothes, touching skin. Once in the room Booker pushed Robert to the bed, straddling him and kissing at his neck.

Robert moaned, loudly. All this was so new to him. He had a brief relationship with a girl but there was no passion, no chemistry. Nothing like what he and Book are, even if he doesn't know what they are. Right now there's no time for labels. While he felt Booker stripping him of his clothes, he helped Booker do the same.

Soon clothes were piling on the floor and he felt the fiery touch of skin on skin. Booker grabbed Robert's cock in his hand, stroking him. Robert melted, whimpering as Booker smirked. "So sensitive. I can't wait to see what I can do to you. Where's your lotion?" Robert pointed to a desk, where a few hygiene products were. Booker grabbed the lotion, coming back to the bed and putting some on his fingers. Robert spoke up, becoming confused " ?" "Its Booker and I'm gonna fuck you nice and hard, got it?" He smirked when he saw the blush go from his ears to his chest. "Booker...such filthy language." Booker raised his legs and inserted one finger, making the other gasp. "You seem to like it."

He kissed and licked at his chest and stomach, adding a second finger, thrusting it in and out, hitting his prostate which made the red head arch his back and his toes curl. "Ohhh... ...Booker...ahh" Once he added a third finger and made sure he was damn well and ready, he slicked himself up and positioned himself, placing the others legs around his waist as he started to push in.

Robert winced but didn't want to tell him to stop. No, he wanted him to keep going. He wanted to know what it would feel like having that cock hit that spot inside him again and again.

Once Booker was flush with his ass he gripped his hips and pulled out before thrusting back in at a brutal pace but the other didn't seem to mind, on the contrary, he loved it.

Robert was a moaning, whimpering mess, gripping the sheets and calling out Booker's name like a prayer. "Ahhh yes...yes...Booker...oh god...".

Boom was biting his lip, already feeling so close. Booker reached and started stroking Robert. He came with only about two strokes, coming hard across his stomach, dripping down Bookers hand, his back arching like a whore. God it was beautiful and Booker prayed he remembered it in the morning.

He came not too far behind, groaning and leaning over the redhead, nearly touching foreheads as he came deep inside him.

He pulled out, laying on the bed next to him, passing out as soon as he it the mattress..

The next thing Booker remembers is waking up in a bed that isn't his own with a hangover the size of Manhattan. He groaned. His head was pounding and sharp and he doesn't remember much, not with how his head feels like Songbird went to town on it. Thinking hurts.

But he can assume from being naked and in a strange bed he must have gotten laid. He turned over and felt himself stiffen.

It was Robert Lutece. The one he's been flirting with, the one he may actually like and care for and he used him as a one night stand? Shit, he needed to get out of here, he needed to get water and he needed a shower.

First things first he needed to grab his clothes, get changed and get the hell out of here. He can apologize when he doesn't feel like death.

It didn't take long to find Elizabeth. She saw him and gave a disappointed but somewhat amused smile. "You look like death." "Thanks for the compliment, let's just get going, maybe to a hotel." He kept his voice low, just talking hurt his head. She didn't ask questions or tell him that they have many offers to stay with the Lutece residents. She had a hunch that that was the reason why.

Once at the hotel he slept away his hangover best he could. He never got sick from them but dear god he wishes he did, his head was always agony after a night of heavy drinking.

He must have fallen asleep but he was being shaken awake. "Mr. DeWitt! !" He groaned, seeing Elizabeth looking miffed. "What is it that couldn't wait?" "Rosalind wants to see you and she's in no mood to wait. What the hell did you do to make her so mad?" He rubbed his eyes with another groan. "I can think of a few things. Where is she?" He said as he sat up. Elizabeth crossed her arms. "Outside the main doors. She said she wanted this conversation away from curious eyes."

He made himself presentable, his headache was less agony and more tolerable. He made his way downstairs and outside the main doors where he was very suddenly met with the other one, Rosalind. Before he could get a word or greet out though, she slapped him so hard he nearly fell to the ground. He cried out more from surprise than the sharp pain., using the wall of the hotel for support.

"If your wondering what that was for than you deserve more than a mere slap." He sighed. "If this is about your brother. I was going to...clear things up the next time I saw you guys." He swore he saw her eye twitch.

"Next time isn't good enough Mr. DeWitt. I knew I should have warned him about you but because you couldn't help yourself and my failing to warn him he is now broken-hearted and crying his eyes out because you used him simply for your own pleasure and I will not stand idly by while my brother is hurting." Booker sighed, feeling like shit but having no idea where to even start. "Well, what do you want me to do?"

She walked closer, nearly face to face. "What I want you to do is to March your arse back to our residence and apologize for your drunken activities and make damn sure he knows he isn't some common whore and if you don't God help you, the agony I will put on you if you chose to not do so. Am I clear Mr. DeWitt?" Booker swallowed, she was damn scary without even raising her voice. "Crystal. I'll march my arse there right now. Tell Elizabeth something came up and I had to go for a bit." She glared before walking briskly inside.

He groaned, running his hands though his hair. This is not how he wanted to face the other Lutece. At one point he wanted to maybe ask him out to lunch, treat him like he's supposed to be treated. But he fucked it all up and treated him like a damn slut. The thought to consider stopping drinking crossed his mind but that was another thought for another day. Right now he had a lot of apologizing to do.

He went to the Lutece residence and didn't even bother knocking but he went in gently, clearing his voice. "Uhh Lutece?" He didn't hear anything. He walked in further, closing the door. "Lutece...Robert. Are you here?" He heard footsteps and he felt his stomach drop. What the hell does he even say? He made Robert feel like he wasn't enough. Like he was just some slut that easily opens themselves up. He made Robert feel like shit and that made him feel like shit.

He was brought out of his thoughts when Robert was half way down the staircase. When he got close enough to see he saw that the red heads eyes were red and his face puffy, as if he's been crying all morning. Robert crossed his arms, trying hard to look intimidating but a fresh batch of tears at taken over his blue eyes. "What do you want Mr. DeWitt? Don't you think you've done enough damage." Booker looked away,fidgeting with his shirt sleeve.

"I'm...I'm sorry. About last night. I was drunk off my ass, I barely remember anything." "Your not making this any better." Booker shook his head. "I'm sorry I made you feel like shit." Booker looked up, taking in a breath. Robert remained silent. Booker continued. "I wasn't in a good place last night. I wanted to forget the blood on my hands, I wanted to forget everything. So I drank and drank and then you were there and...I used you to forget and if you never want to see me again or help us I understand, just...I'm sorry." Robert remained silent. Booker started to turn. "I'll go now. Nice meeting you." "Wait."

Booker stopped, not even turning. He waited for the verbal lashing. He heard Robert walk closer before a soft but solid hand was turning him. "I don't want to pretend I never met you. I...I care about you and, if you like, once we've both healed a bit, I would like to start something with you. Something serious." Booker would never admit how his heart fluttered.

He looked in those blue eyes, taking a chance. "Is that forgiveness?" "Yes . It is." Booker gave a small smile. "Then I suppose I could give us a shot. How can I resist those blue eyes?" He smiled a little more when he saw Robert blush but smile. He leaned in, kissing him softly until Robert pulled away first with a small smile. "This isn't waiting." Booker chuckled. "I'll stop. How about next week, to make up for this, I'll take us to lunch, your choice." "That sounds lovely Mr. DeWitt." Booker pulled back. "Can you do me one favor?" "Of course." "Can you call your sister off me? I'd rather not die when I have a date to make it to." Robert chuckled. "I will tell her we have made up." "And please, call me Booker."


End file.
